


Shattering Sound

by pinegreenapples



Series: All the World's A Symphony [1]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Excessive amounts of imagery, M/M, Music, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-25
Updated: 2016-05-25
Packaged: 2018-06-10 17:40:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6966778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinegreenapples/pseuds/pinegreenapples
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Soulmarks were much like coconuts and appendixes within the scientific community.</p>
<p>Hartley Rathaway has a soulmark on his hip. He doesn't want it, and he certainly doesn't want the person implicated by it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shattering Sound

**Author's Note:**

> This is cross-posted on Tumblr just in case anyone was confused about why this seemed familiar.

Soulmarks were much like coconuts and appendixes within the scientific community. An anomaly that no one could fully explain, only say that it is there and that it exists. Not everyone had a soulmark- another inconsistency that highly respected biologists couldn’t explain.

So as a self-proclaimed scientist, seven year old Hartley Rathaway decided that he didn’t have a soulmate. Science couldn’t explain the phenomena that brought nearly seventy percent of the population together and if science couldn’t explain something then clearly it wasn’t important. Hartley was almost glad in a way that science provided him an out; kissing girls seemed icky to him and no matter how much his teachers said he’d want to when he was older, he just couldn’t seem to accept that.

When Hartley turns nine he is taken to Central City’s concert hall for the first time. He’s fidgety in his new suit and restless, barely able to sit still for a second. He’s so focused on the pattern of the carpet since his Mother said if he got up one more time they wouldn’t go to the library for a whole week that the sound that vibrates through his whole being shocks him. His eyes widen as the carpet’s dizzying swirls unravel into sound and beauty and something Hartley can’t put words to. He keeps his eyes open for as long as he can manage, so afraid that if he closes them the magic will go away and never return. When the piece ends Hartley feels bereft, like he just lost a part of himself he didn’t know he needed and he glances up anxiously to catch the tip of the magic. Instead he is greeted with a sleek blackness only broken by a white shaft. It’s beautiful as the woman in front of it steps away and bows. Hartley is mesmerized, and as the woman sits back down, he finds he cannot look away as each piece of the white shaft is pressed and a shard of magic slips out.

The ride home is like an impressionist painting, hazy and unfocused but lovely in the sense that it feels like beauty. Hartley and parents walk by the drawing room as they do every night but for the first time Hartley spies that sleek blackness sitting patiently in the corner of the room.

It takes four days to convince his parents to let him take piano lessons. It takes another three to find a suitable teacher and for Hartley to find out that the magic also has science behind it.

He takes piano lessons once a week and spends all his spare time devoted to reading anything he can on soundwaves. Some of the articles he reads don’t make a lot of sense but he does get to learn lots of new words from these “scientific journals” as the librarian had called them. His piano teacher, Mr. Richmond, is a towering man of 6’2” with big black hands that stroke the keys as if they were baby bird feathers. He’s got a deep, rumbling laugh that doesn’t seem to fit his grey slacks and dark purple button up anymore than Hartley fits into his old sneakers. Hartley wonders if Mr. Richmond has some magic inside him too. Maybe that’s why his laughter doesn’t seem to fit, because you can’t trap magic, not like the kind Hartley’s heard. Mr. Richmond is very patient with Hartley, he listens to him talk ecstatically about soundwaves with a smile that is different than all the ones other grown ups have given him. Hartley thinks it’s because Mr. Richmond’s smile seems to find a way to snuggle in his eyes and stay there in small crinkles and bright sparks. Mr. Richmond also helps Hartley understand the things he doesn’t get in the scientific articles. He says he was interested in the science of sound when he was a kid and it was what got him into music too.

Hartley likes to think Mr. Richmond is maybe his long lost older brother. He always wanted a big brother.

Eventually, the weekly visits become nearly daily visits. He and Mr. Richmond play the most beautiful pieces. They switch between all the great composers, Haydn, Tchaikovsky, Beethoven, Mozart- Hartley can’t get enough. They look over those scientific articles again too. Hartley understands all the words now that he’s older. He’s twelve now, practically a grown up, or so he’s been told. Hartley certainly feels grown up. He’s only got two more years of high school before he goes to college.

Mr. Richmond doesn’t seem to care about how smart Hartley is though. At least, not really. He’s always excited when Hartley gets another semester of straight A’s or a perfect score on his science project, but unlike Mother and Father he doesn’t care just about what Hartley can achieve, he also cares about who Hartley is. Which is, Hartley supposes, the reason he keeps asking Hartley if he’s made any friends with his peers. Hartley always scoffs at that. He doesn’t need friends, he’s never needed anyone, just like his parents’ don’t need each other or their soulmates. Mr. Richmond looks at him with this almost pitying expression Hartley says something like that and Hartley hates him for it. He’s not weak, he doesn’t need a soulmate, or friends, or anybody. He’s Hartley Robert Rathaway and he’s a scientist. Science is and will always be his life and love.

***

Hartley’s 15 and just about to graduate high school when it hits him like a freaking freight train. One month of high school left and this comes along, Hartley thinks bitterly, Well isn’t that just swell. He doesn’t cry about it or the repercussions he knows it’ll cause; he refuses to stoop so low. Instead Hartley plans. With his intellect and abilities he should be able to graduate college in five years with a full doctorate in physics. From there, he’ll look at jobs and pick the best situation. He’s got his eye currently on a newly established laboratory set up by the renowned Harrison Wells but he’s keeping his options open. Hartley tweaks and perfects his plan until it is perfect and he does so even as he seems to imagine his soulmark burning on his hip- a probable impossibility because soulmarks have been proven to be unconnected to any nerves whatsoever.

The night of his graduation, Hartley snaps. He doesn’t know what broke, how it broke, or why it’s breaking, but it did and now he has to deal with it. He takes his flute (he’d picked it up when he was thirteen and decided he liked it just as much as the piano) and rides a bus to a house he’s spent the best parts of his childhood in. The street light’s out but the porch light is still on. The soft yellow glow gives the beige trim and white fencing a nostalgic taste that twists Hartley’s lips in a wry smile.

When he knocks, Mr. Richmond doesn’t look like Hartley popping in at 11:00 is all that strange, instead he just looks him over before stepping aside. Hartley lets himself in and pads over to the old overstuffed arm chair that sits across from the piano. He remembers he used to pretend that the chair had swallowed him when he was a kid. He wonders if that would still work now as he curls in on himself.  
The soft striking of a key brings Hartley back to the world with a jolt. As the note smoothes out into a melody, Hartley closes his eyes and feels the magic pulse through the room, swelling and growing. The shapes are back again, shifting into designs so complex he can barely comprehend them before they scatter like leaves in the wind to form a new pattern.  
When the music stops, Hartley opens his eyes and looks at the armrest just in front of his knees.

“Did you have a soulmate?”

There’s some shifting at the piano, a sigh.

“Yes.”

“Who were they?” Hartley’s voice is muffled by his knees.

“Her name was Eisha Jones. She was the best jazz singer in Harlem or so people said. She didn’t think that though, she said she was only as good as the people who taught her.”

Hartley pokes at the embroidery on the armrest, picking at a frayed end. “Was it nice? Having a soulmate?”

“Yes, it was-more than nice, actually. Most days it was like relaxing in a nice summer breeze. Something so pleasant you never wanted to forget it.”

“And the other times?”

“We fought like hell.” Mr. Richmond pauses to chuckle, “But we loved each other enough to work through it.”

Hartley nods absently and hears Mr. Richmond give another sigh.

“Look, Hartley, I know whatever you’re going through may make you feel like you’re unlovable but it’s not true. You aren’t broken or damaged or anything like that. You’re an incredible young man whom I’ve had the pleasure of knowing and who will go on to do great things.”

They don’t talk for the rest of the night and when Hartley comes for his lessons they never mention that night.

At the end of the summer, Hartley makes one last trip to Mr. Richmond’s house. The two of them sit together again and this time Hartley plays his flute along with Mr. Richmond’s feather light strokes. After a while, Hartley knows he has to leave. _I miss you_ sits heavy atop his tongue as he says goodbye and thanks Mr. Richmond for all he’s done. _Please don’t let me go_ swims through his head on repeat as they hug and Hartley steps off the porch. _I’m not sure I can do this without you_ skips in his head like a broken record as he rides the bus home.

***

Hartley’s seventeen and the world’s spinning like those damn tilt-a-whirls at fairs he never got to try but knew he’d hate on principle. He supposes it’s his own fault for drinking so much, but at the same time it feels like he can’t stop until he passes out black drunk. The walls dance with shiny sparkles and Hartley can’t remember if they were there before or if he’s nearing alcohol poisoning. Maybe they’ll form elephants he muses before giggling. Elephants, why is that funny? And why elephants? Something to do with being drunk...Hartley’s eyes begin to drift shut and the shiny spots coalesce behind his eyelids in brighter colors that mix and spread like a net. His eyes pop open again and he shifts from his position against his bunk and ends up on his back, staring at the ceiling. The shiny spots swirl and Hartley traces one with his finger. He wonders if it’s the magic he found all those years ago. Maybe it’s come to help Hartley out of the mess he’s sunk to.

After that, it’s all a blur except for one moment. Hartley doesn’t know how it happens-it just does-or why he decides to do it, but somehow he’s shucked off his jeans and is staring at his soulmark for the first time in ten years. It’s funny, it’s been so long he doesn’t even remember what it looks like. He’s repressed any memory of it, refusing to acknowledge the one thing that his precious science couldn’t explain and the one thing he knew his parents would never accept him for. He studies it for what seems like forever, noticing each blue line as it overlaps a green line. They spike up and down in arcs that remind him of electricity or heart monitors or-

_Sound waves_.

Hartley laughs, a hysterical half laugh that cramps in the lump in his throat and snags in the tears filling his eyes. His fucking soulmate has a sound wave sitting somewhere on them, probably thinking that their soulmate is some nerd who can’t handle more than five minutes within a social situation. He laughs at the fact that he actually wants this stupid soulmate, that he doesn’t want to be his parents and he sure as hell doesn’t want to be alone at the end of the day. He only hopes that his soulmate doesn’t care that he’s as emotionally fucked up as they come.

***

Hartley’s nineteen when he meets Harrison Wells for the first time. He’s better now, or at least as better as he can be. The interview is unique and Hartley is very impressed with the man behind STAR Labs. Apparently, Harrison Wells was also very impressed with Hartley because he gets a call the very next day saying he has a job if he wants it.

Hartley works four years at STAR Labs and for once since leaving that porch, he feels like maybe he’s developed a home. That maybe he has somewhere he can belong. He’s got a flat now that isn’t cruddy and a pet rat too. He’d named it Descartes as a joke. He has a lab and he has acquaintances that don’t mind him or his detail oriented ways too much. It’s nice, in its own special way and he hopes it doesn’t change too much because he’s not sure how much he can handle within this delicate ecosystem he’s created for himself.

Cisco Ramon shatters the damn ecosystem like it’s a spiderweb he just happened to walk through. He sends Hartley’s relatively normal life pinwheeling on an unknown axis that for the life of him, Hartley can’t get it back to where it’s supposed to be.

He can’t help it, eventually he turns to snarky and snide remarks, pushing at Cisco, at the unwelcome presence within his life. It doesn’t work and Hartley’s beginning to feel desperate at this point. He doesn’t enjoy being the embodiment of an unstoppable force against an unmovable object.

Eventually, he begins to recognize that he’s slipped into a pattern with Cisco, that despite Cisco bringing chaos, he has also brought order. Hartley decides he can make peace with this and does all he can to ensure his newfound routine with STAR Labs isn’t disturbed again.

Of course it is, however, and by none other than Cisco Ramon again. For the most part, Cisco wears hoodies that zip up the front, although he does have a few that pull over the head. He’s wearing a green one with three golden triangles on the front-whatever that means- and he decides to take it off. Hartley’s eyes are drawn to the movement and as he focuses on Cisco he sees a symbol he hasn’t looked at for six years. Twining lines of green and blue oscillate across Cisco’s lower right back just under the hem of his shirt. Twin lines mocking Hartley.

Hartley knows he makes some sort of strangled sound before rushing out because Cisco looks at him in concern as he strides past. He finds a broom closet and tucks himself inside. He’s only in there for a few panicky breaths before Cisco’s in the doorway and reaching for him.

Color explodes through Hartley’s vision. Shifting vibrantly like a symphony. They form dazzling designs that spark and shimmer and remind Hartley achingly of that magic he felt. He’s lost in it all for what seems like an eternity, moving fluidly along with the rainbow nestled in his head.

Slowly, the color fades back into the dim broom closet and the black sheen of Cisco’s hair winks at him dully. Cisco himself looks stricken and Hartley feels that last piece of himself shatter and sour. He knocks Cisco’s hand off his forearm and brushes by him. He doesn’t want to subject himself to the inevitable rejection coming his way. The halls of STAR Labs that once seemed so inviting echo the sharp clack of his shoes. A dismal cadence that he feels in the recent hollow of his chest. What he doesn’t expect is the syncopation of a clattering run behind him. He very nearly turns but thinks better of it. Cisco doesn’t want him, that’s all there is to it. His hip feels like it’s burning as he walks.

“Hartley!” He doesn’t stop, his steps only increase in speed.

“Hartley! Wait!” The clatter is close and slower. A hand on his shoulder pulls him backwards. The hand attempts to spin him around and Hartley complies. He stares down into brown puppy dog eyes before they surge up to meet him.

The world explodes again but this time it happens with Cisco and it’s incredible. Hartley doesn’t get lost in the magical swirls this time because now he’s lost in Cisco. The magic ebbs around them as stand together. Hartley can hear as it swells and eddies but it isn’t his focus. Cisco is and it’s fantastic. Cisco’s lips part from his briefly and he manages a small “Oh.”

Cisco huffs out a laugh and intertwines their fingers. A strong, unbreakable bond between them. Hartley can feel the ecosystem begin to come flooding back. It’s changed, but now it’s better because now it includes Cisco, the missing piece that kept the tower from tumbling like a house of cards.

They’re together and it’s like a cool summer breeze, something you never forget and you never walk away from.

**Author's Note:**

> So, as the great genius that I am, I managed to delete half of my fics that I had prepared for Hartmon week which included the B-sides version of this soulmates AU that focuses on Cisco. I think once the week is over I might try to rewrite that because it definitely helps build the world more and Cisco's there for more than five-ish paragraphs.


End file.
